Crowyn

On a starless night, a middle aged man draws his last breath, but is it truly the end? Vael Icaris, the man in question, rose to power in terms of physical might as well as political influence, during his youth. That obviously upset some people, which led to his untimely demise. Luckily for him, he thought in advance and came up with countermeasures to fight for what he deserves!
Will Vael be able to change his fate?
I'm a new author, so I'll be learning as I go. 
Expect 1 chapter per day, two on a good day.

STARLESS

Yesterday's events were as eventful as tonight's.

Vael had learned something new — that as time passed, he'd likely recover more and more of his lost memories.

And then there was that last bit with Ash…

And it was. He barely knew anything about the girl, and while her words could've meant nothing, they might've been a window into a darker past.

His thoughts drifted again — this time to something completely unrelated.

Why the hell did we bring so many unawakened with us?

Any message worth delivering, or meeting worth attending, could've been handled by Drako or Lucia.

The unawakened weren't just extras. They were insurance.

If the meeting failed — if the safe zone the rebels were heading toward didn't welcome them, or worse, turned on them — then having a mix of civilians and combatants would soften the first impression. It made them look less like a rogue strike force and more like a fractured community seeking asylum.

A desperate people. Survivors, not soldiers.

Smart, he admitted, even if it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

That being said, Vael still didn't know why they were even heading to the capital — deep in enemy territory.

Might as well ask, he thought as he slipped out of the tent, moving with his usual quiet steps.

The cold had lessened slightly. A thin mist clung to the trees, but the worst of the frost was gone.

By the fire, Drako sat in silence, preparing breakfast.

"So," Vael began, settling across from him, "mind telling me what your goal is in the capital?"

He'd known Drako and Lucia for… what, a bit more than a week?

If they died now — he'd feel nothing.

Their relationship was purely transactional.

He and Kiera helped them cross the Alps, fought their battles, protected their people.

They led the way. That was the deal.

What could possibly convince the Captain to send two of his most powerful and trusted soldiers on a suicidal climb across the Alps?

Drako looked at the young man in front of him, eyes narrowing slightly. He seemed to be gauging Vael's intent — trying to decide if the question came from suspicion, or simple curiosity.

"The capital's not just some symbolic target. There's something there — something the Captain believes might shift the tide of the war. A name we only whisper in closed rooms: Project Conquest.

"He didn't tell us much. Only that it's old tech. Pre-Treaty. And if the rumors are even half true, it's worth the risk.

"To put it bluntly, we have a team of rebels embedded deep in enemy territory. Spies, if you will," Drako said calmly.

"They're supposed to hand us the Object. The Captain… he's got sway over several rebel factions, so he's been tasked with wiping out the pests we've been dealing with — then heading east to assist a much larger force."

Vael stayed silent for a moment, processing.

Then, with a slow nod, he turned and walked away, the weight of the revelation settling on him.

He had suspected something — maybe a supply exchange, maybe a meeting with another group.

This went far beyond anything he'd imagined.

Just hearing the name sent a chill down his spine.

He pushed the thought aside for now. They had a long they ahead of them.